The Power of Love
by MadameAngel
Summary: ON HAITUS.
1. Part 1

My first LotR fic. I hope you like it. Anything LotR is not mine. Anything you don't recognize is mine. If it's not, I'll let you know. Yes, I have used some lines from LotR, so don't be alarmed. Mostly movie-verse. -shamed- Sorry! I'll do a book-verse one too, but it'll probably be a one-shot. But this does have a lot of factual information from the book... Just set in movie events, I guess. Review, if it suits you.

**The Power of Love**

**Part One**

Eowyn, sister-daughter of Theoden King, knelt at his throne in the Golden Hall of Meduseld, overcome with grief. Theodred, son of Theoden, had died during the night, and Eowyn had come to bear the news to her uncle. Quietly, she told him of the passing of his son and heir. He made no sign that he heard her voice. After a moment, she rose, and left the room, tears gathering in her eyes.

A pair of pale blue eyes watched the one-sided exchange from a dark corner behind the throne. Silently, Grima Wormtongue made his way past Theoden, bowing slightly without looking at the king. His eyes were fixed on the door that the White Lady of Rohan had exited through. He walked slowly through the Hall, the only sound his black boots against the floor. Outside, the narrow corridor was empty. He turned sharply right, his eyes quickly finding the door ajar to Theodred's quarters.

Inside, Eowyn was kneeling near the bed, mourning the loss of her beloved cousin, heir to the throne of Rohan. Grima approached slowly, his steps echoing in the silent room. He sat down on the end of the bed, quietly offering his condolences to the grieving Lady. He gently laid his hand on her shoulder.

Eowyn's stomach jumped, and her body stiffened. It was no surprise to her how Grima felt for her, and now, in her moment of weakness, he had decided to act. Eowyn had loved Grima once, and he knew this. But what he did not know is that she harbored long-lost feelings for him still, and she willed herself to hate him, knowing the treachery he had committed against the King. She jumped up, backward, away from his touch, but not before she felt the iciness of his skin seeping through the thin white fabric of her dress.

"Leave me alone, snake!" Her words came out harshly. Shaking, she regarded Grima with apprehension. His eyes hardened as he gazed at her.

"Oh, but you are alone," he whispered, rising from the bed. "Who knows what you've spoken to the darkness, in the bitter watches of the night..." He quickly closed the space between them, "When all your life seems to shrink." Her circled her slowly, taking extra care to not touch her. "The walls of your bower closing in about you..." He was facing her now, his pale blue eyes searching her face. "A hutch to trammel some _wild_ thing in..." His eyes flitted back and forth between hers, and his subtle emphasis on the word _wild_ betrayed to her the inner passion he was feeling. Eowyn's eyes widened slightly, but she could not move away.

Grima spoke gently. "So fair... so cold." His hand caressed the side of her face. His touch was hot, a stark contrast to the coolness that was moments before. "Like a morning of pale spring still clinging to winter's chill." Eowyn fought with herself to not surrender, to remain strong. Her eyes closed in spite of herself, and she found pleasure in his touch. She heard the traitor's breathing quicken, and his hand moved to feel the soft flesh of her neck. Eowyn knew what was to follow, and her hatred at Grima's treachery outweighed her hidden feelings for him. Her eyes opened, pinning him under her gaze.

"You words are poison." She turned away, and half-ran from the room.

Standing in front of the Hall Meduseld, Eowyn saw four strangers riding towards the city. She could make out two fair and two dark persons. She saw what might have been a staff in the hands of one of the fairest one, and feared that Saruman had come at last to claim the Golden Hall, and Eowyn the woman was gone, replaced by Eowyn the Shield Lady of Rohan. She watched them for a moment, then went to her quarters, unearthed a key from the chest of drawers, and opened the wardrobe that stood in the far corner of the room. In that wardrobe hung the armour of the Shield Lady of Rohan. This armour hadn't been worn since the Last Alliance of Men and Elves against the Dark Lord Sauron, but it was maintained regularly, should it ever be needed. Eowyn pulled from the wardrobe a dagger that strapped around the middle of her thigh. The metal of the sheath and strap buckle were cold against her skin. She shivered, remembering Grima's touch. Letting her skirt fall over the dagger, she checked herself, making sure no one could see the weapon beneath the cloth. She then departed for the throne room of Theoden King.

Upon entering, she saw a Man, and Elf, and a Dwarf. For the first time, Eowyn was aware of Aragorn, son of Arathorn: tall heir of kings, wise with many winters, greycloaked, hiding a power that she yet felt. For a moment she stood, still as stone, but a struggle on the other side of the room caught her eye. Grima lay on the floor, pinned by the foot of the stout Dwarf. Before she could decide whether to help Grima, or the Dwarf, a loud moan came from the front of the room, and Eowyn turned to see Theoden, pressed back against his throne as though by an invisible force. An old man, cloaked in grey, was advancing on the king, his staff held high above him. Eowyn started from the doorway to aid her uncle, but she had only gone two-thirds of the distance when Aragorn's strong arm encircled her waist, holding her back.

"Wait," he said quietly in her ear. As they watched, the old man cast off his cloak, and a new light filled the room. It seemed to come from the wizard himself, for a wizard he undoubtedly was. Theoden jumped, snarling, towards him. The wizard brandished his staff once more, and Theoden fell back into his throne, then slumped forward. Eowyn shoved Aragorn's arm off her body and sprinted to the throne, catching her uncle before he fell to the floor.

He looked at her, and her eyes filled with tears as she was life come back to him. Youth returned to his face, and at last he gave a sign that he remembered her.

"I know your face..." he whispered. She helped him to his feet. His sword was brought to him, and even as she watched, strength and vigor return to the body of Theoden, son of Thengel, King of Rohan.

As Eowyn stood, she felt the dagger on her thigh. She politely excused herself to her quarters. She removed the dagger and placed it back in the wardrobe, locking it securely.

Upon reaching the doors of Meduseld, she heard a cry coming from outside. She turned, and saw Grima being flung down the hard stone steps of the building. A part of her wanted to help him, but the other part of her was content to stand, and watching pay for his treachery. The king approached, his sword raised for the kill, but he was stopped by Aragorn. Grima's eyes flicked to Eowyn, even as he spit on Aragorn's hand and fled the city. As everyone bowed to the King, Eowyn watched as Grima rode through the gates of the city, to Isengard. But as she bowed to her King, she felt a new hope stirring in her breast. Although Grima would ride to Isengard, and Saruman would now strike, Theoden King had returned, as though from death, and they could now stand to fight against the wizard.

That night was the funeral of Theodred. Eowyn stood near the tomb, clothed in a velvet blue dress, tears in her eyes. She watched as the bearers carried her cousin's body towards the tomb. When the body passed her, she began to sing:

_An evil death has set forth the noble warrior_

_A song shall sorrowing minstrels sing in Meduseld..._

As the funeral ended, Eowyn wondered if her uncle would allow her to fight in the impending war. But there was no time to dwell on such things. Two children had arrived at the city, unaided and alone, bringing news that the Wild Men were burning through the Westfold.

When she returned to the Hall, she found Aragorn, the Elf (that is Legolas), and the Dwarf (who was Gimli) seated at the table, eating as though they had not for days. Eowyn tended to the children at the next table, before turning to the three strangers. Curious, she inquired of Aragorn from whence he had come, and how long he had traveled without nourishment.

"We were set out from Imladris as a company of Nine. Gandalf fell into Shadow, but has since been granted life and returned to us." He motioned towards the wizard seated near Theoden's throne. "Four days past, now, we lost Boromir of Gondor in a battle with the Uruks of Isengard. The Uruk-hai took two of our Halfling friends, and we have pursued them for three days. THey are now in the care of the Tree-hearders of Fangorn forest."

Eowyn's eyes widened in fear and amazement. Legends she had known since childhood were spoken of plainly in Aragorn's words, as if they were true, and living, walking, breathing under the Sun, even as Eowyn stood before Aragorn at this moment. She feared for the Halflings, for Fangorn Forest was known for it's queer goings-on, and any fate may come to such creatures as Halflings in such a place. But behind her fear, Eowyn sensed that there was something greater happening than a company of friends on holiday.

"And what of the other two, my lord? You spoke only of seven."

In the brief silence that followed, aragorn glanced at Legolas and Gimli. Legolas spoke quietly in Elvish before returning his attention to his soup-bowl.

"We lost them during the battle with the Uruk-hai. We know not of their fate." A sadness seemed to settle over the table, and Eowyn knew they would tell her no more. She turned back to this children.

"Time for bed, little ones," she said gently, taking them each by the hand and leading them to her quarters. Although it was early evening, she tucked them into her bed and returned to the Hall. The four strangers were leaving, and none too happily, it seemed. They were followed by Hama, captain of Theoden's army, and the King.

"Uncle," she said, lightly touching his arm, "What has happened? Why are Aragorn and the wizard upset so?"

Theoden smiled, knowing his niece enough to figure out that she had formed feeling of affection for Aragorn son of Arathorn. "My dear, it is nothing so complicated. Tomorrow we leave for Helm's Deep. Saruman cannot strike us there. The wizard does not agree with my judgement, and Aragorn has taken his side, no matter how he may agree with me. He is a very loyal Man.

You, my dear, should get some rest. We depart for Helm's Deep at daybreak." The King touched her cheek lightly, and followed Hama out the doors of the Hall.

Eowyn smiled and returned to her room. She tiptoed past the bed where the children we sleeping peacefully, and into the bath-room. She filled the gray marble tub with steamer water from the large pot over the bath-rooom fire place. She washed withe extra care, taking her time, knowing that this could be the last time she bathed in a long time. After combing out her nearly knee-length golden hair and putting on her simple green nightdress, she pulled the spare blanket from the foot of the bed and made for the window seat.

She sat awake for hours, watching the stars shift positions through the night. She saw _Thoron_, the eagle, and _Lyg_, the serpent, as well as several stars that were unusually bright. Freida, the girl child, woke up crying because she was cold. Eowyn smiled and gave the girl her blanket. She was going to be awake for a long while yet, and the early spring air was beginning to warm. She wrapped the blanket around the child and sat back down on the window seat. Her thoughts turned to Grima.

_He first came to Edoras when she was sixteen years of age. She had been riding across the green plains of Rohan alone for the first time. Theoden had been very protective of her, and had never allowed her out alone. She rode out of Edoras on a splendid palomino mare, named__Caoimhe. She stopped in the top of a small hill, overlooking the Riddermark. To the south, she could see the tower of Orthanc, standing serenely, keeping watch over Rohas. As she looked, she saw a figure, clad in black, riding towards Edoras. She spurred her horse, and they flew down the hill towards the city. She put Caoimhe in her stall in the royal stables, and saw that the dark newcomer's stallion was already there, in the stall next to hers. She half ran to the Hall, finding the young King Theoden welcoming the stranger._

_"Hail, Eowyn, fair sister-daughter," he said as she drew near. The stranger turned. His ice blue eyes pierced her emerald green ones, and an odd feeling spread through her. He bowed slightly, taking her hand and kissing it. She noticed a tattoo of a G-rune and a snake on the inside of his left wrist._

_"It pleases me to meet the fair maiden of the Golden Hall," he said, in a voice of honeyed sliver. _

_"I am pleased to meet you as well--"_

_"Grima, son of Galmod, of Isengard. His family is one of the few blessed to live in that great city, under the protection of the White Wizard," Theoden interjected. "Eowyn, I must bid you leave us. I have much to discuss with my new counselor." Eowyn smiled, nodded, and left the room. _

Eowyn sighed. Yes, she had loved Grima once, long ago. And now she was beginning to miss him. Were he still here, he would have come to her tonight, but it was not so. The traitor had fled, and she forbid herself to love him. Turning from the window as the constellation Lyg sank below the horizon, she stretched out on the window seat and fell into an uneasy sleep.

She dreamt of darkness. Of dark faces, fell voices, and a dark rider astride a dark horse, galloping swiftly across a dark plain. There was a G-rune and snake tattoo on his wrist.

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A/N: Eowyn's funeral song is the translation from the Rohan language. It's the same song as in the film. Translated lyrics from stlyrics . com. Review please, and I'll love you forever.


	2. Part 2

Yay, I'm back. Enjoy this chapter. You know the drill, anything LotR is not mine. A little minor error in my last note, Eowyn's funeral song was sung in Old English, but probably meant to be the language of Rohan. -shrugs- I dunno.

Review Responses (for my anonymous reviewers... tsk tsk. I love you!):

..? -- Well, it would seem you're right. Rohan was founded in the Third Age. Oh well. It's not an important matter to the story, so I'll leave it be.

And without further ado (because ado is boring and meaningless) Part two:

**The Power of Love**

**Part Two**

When the women and children reached Helm's Deep, they were alone. The men had stayed behind to fight the wolves of Isengard who had attacked them along the way. Eowyn helped the children find their mothers, and then waited atop the battlements for the men to return, her eyes scanning the horizon. When they did, she raced down to greet them. Their numbers were few. She mentioned this to Theoden King, but he did not reply. She looked at the men, and was afraid, for Aragorn was not among them. Gimli the Dwarf approached her.

"My lord Aragorn," she said, her voice shaking. "Where is he?" The Dwarf looked at her, then back at the ground.

"He feel," Gimli said, in a voice choked by sorrow. Tears filled Eowyn's eyes, and she looked up at the Kin. His gaze met hers only for a moment, then he looked away in shame. The shield lady of Rohan crumbled in defeat. Her tears threatened to spill over, but she checked herself and looked around at her people. They needed her help, she could not afford to lose her strength. She tended to as many wounded and needy as she could throughout the next few hours. Her heart was heavy, but she did not let her personal trails keep her from caring for her people.

That evening, as the shadows began to lengthen, she was helping a mother tend to her many small children, when she thought she heard a familiar voice. Looking up, she saw Legolas talking to Aragorn, who was obviously fatigued, having just arrived at the Keep. Her heart began to race. Standing up, she walked near them. She saw Legolas slip something into Aragorn's hand. It was the jewel from his Lady. Eowyn's heart fell slightly, remembering the conversation she had had with Aragorn earlier, and how obvious it was that he loved his Lady very much, despite her leaving him for the lands in the West. As Eowyn watched, Aragorn gave no sign that he had yet seen her. But even as he left to find the King, his grey eyes met her emerald ones briefly, and he almost smiled.

She returned to the young mother with a joyful heart. She soon learned, however, that Aragorn had seen Saruman's army, and that Helm's Deep would be under siege by nightfall. Already the light was growing golden, a sure sign that there were mere hours of daylight left. The King's captain was striding about, calling for all men older than twelve years to be sent to the armory. Everyone else was herded into the caves. Eowyn's heart froze. _A cage..._

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The women and children were huddled together near the doors of the caves. Most were crying, and shivering with the cold. Only Eowyn stood alone near the back of the cave, her eyes wide, her face pale. Suddenly, a white hand grabbed her wrist in a strong grip.

"My lady," said a voice, "Would you...?" The hand tugged on her wrist. She followed the stranger far back into the caves. There they found a tunnel passage that lead sharply uphill. As they climbed, sounds drifted down from above. There was the sound of many metal-shod feet. The army of Saruman was coming. After nearly an hour of climbing, a blast of cold air hit Eowyn's face. She looked up. The tunnel ended abruptly, and a hole opened above them. The stranger climbed out quickly, and extended its arms to help her. As Eowyn took the offered hands, she noticed a familiar G-rune and snake tattoo on the stranger's wrist. Upon climbing out of the hole, she noticed a very familiar black stallion tethered to a rock nearby. She gasped slightly.

_Grima._

"Yes, my lady," he said smoothly. "I have returned..." He trailed off, lightly running his finger down her jaw. She swatted his hand away.

"Why have you returned?" she asked stonily. Grima did not answer. Instead he removed his hood and looked down the mountain, back to the Keep. Eowyn followed his gaze. Hundreds of Men and Elves stood along the Wall, un-bothered by the pouring rain. Tens of thousands of Uruk-hai were beyond the wall, screaming and stamping. All at once, a forest of arrows flew over the wall at the Uruks, and the battle began.

"I returned to save you from this," Grima said quietly. "When I left Edoras, I saw your face. You were watching me. I rode swiftly, reaching Isengard at sunset. My horse was exhausted, I was weary, but my rest had not come. Saruman's wrath was upon me, and he meant to torture me, I am sure. But first, he showed me his army. I tried to dissuade him, telling him it was impossible, that no such force could exist, hoping that if I said it enough, it would be true. But I failed. He showed me his army, ten thousand strong, and the horror at my treachery struck me. For the first time, I feared for the life of someone who was not myself. I feared for the lives of my countrymen. For your life, my lady, my fear was greatest. I know of your desire to battle alongside your brethren. But I also trusted in the wisdom of Theoden King--" Eowyn scoffed at this-- "Yes, my lady, even now I do not doubt the King's strength. But back to my tale. I trusted that the King would protect you.

"During the night, I fled Isengard and rode to this place above the Keep. It took a very long time. I arrived at the same time that you and the rest arrived at the Keep, and crept down, low enough to hear the shouted orders of the King, but hidden well, so that none could see me, not even the Elf. When the order to came to get the women and children into the caves, I took the secret passage, and waited for you. And here we are.

"You must understand, my lady Eowyn, I never meant any harm to come to you." Grima reached for her.

"Then why have you committed such treachery?" Eowyn cried, rising from the rock where they had been sitting.

"Because of you, my lady. I had loved you, as I still love you, for years, and you shunned my love. You made me who I am, Eowyn. Through your disdain, you have hardened me. I was driven to Saruman because he promised your love."

"But it was you who made the choice to go to him!" Eowyn was half screaming at him, tears welling in her eyes. "I would have loved you, for I did! I loved you, Grima! I love you still!" Her voice dropped to an almost-whisper. "But your treachery forces me to hate you, for I cannot trust you any more."

"You will trust me, my lady. I have repented of my sin, and I ask for your forgiveness." Grima bowed low before Eowyn. Her face hardened.

"Groveling has never suited you, Worm. Get up." Grima rose and looked the princess in the eye. "I do not reject your apology, nor your love." Grima made to close the distance between them, but Eowyn stopped him. "Neither do I accept it. You must earn my forgiveness, and, if possible, my love. Only then--"

She was interrupted by an explosion from below. They turned, as the world shook beneath them. The Deeping Wall was broken. Eowyn sank to the ground. Grima knelt beside her.

"Do not despair, my princess," he said, touching her back lightly. "This Keep cannot fall, not even now. Saruman knows not, but there is a power here greater than the strength of Men and Uruk-hai. The blood of the men of Rohan that is stained on the stones of the Keep gives power to all of those their countrymen, power drawn from their enemies."

"What is this power? And how do you know of it, if not taught by Saruman?" Eowyn asked, her eyes riveted to the battle below.

"Love, my lady," Grima whispered. Eowyn cast him a sharp, sideways glance. "The love of the men of Rohan for their brothers gives them an added measure of strength, as does the love I have for you. You shall not fall in this battle, nor in any others to come. As for myself, Saruman's hold over me was loosed, not broken, but loosed, when you declared your love for me just now." Grima leaned closer, hoping, fearing, that at last he might feel he lips of the White Lady against his own. But Eowyn turned away, and his lips grazed her cheek as he hung his head.

"How do you know this?" she repeated. His head hit her shoulder, and he straightened.

"In the library at Orthanc, the White Council kept many ancient scrolls regarding ancient and forgotten Magics and Powers. Saruman, in his new, industrious way of thinking, has forgotten them. All of the peoples of the world have forgotten, save perhaps the Elves, who know and see all."

Privately, Eowyn thought that Grima was far more wise that most people believed. But she could never tell him so. She stood up and walked a few paces from him, watching the battle rage below. Grima moved to stand behind her. She began to shiver from the cold rain. Grima removed his cloak and placed it over her shoulders. His hands reached around her and fastened the cloak, then lightly rested his hands on her arms. Her shivering quickly grew violent, and she turned to face him. Her lips were purple, her face pale. Grima leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Eowyn tried to pull away, but his grip on her arms tightened, and he pulled her closer. She felt the coldness of her lips melting under the warmth of his simple, chaste kiss. He pulled away, and tried to lead her back into the sheltered caves, but she refused to budge. A slight smile appeared on Grima's face. "Of course, my lady, I forgot. You fear a cage."

"How do you know this, as well?"

Grima looked at her slowly. "My lady, have you forgotten that I know you better than perhaps anyone else on this earth?"

"Except Lord Aragorn," Eowyn said to herself. She saw Grima glance sharply at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Then I am no longer the only one who knows the true Lady Eowyn," he said cooly. "This matters not to me. Lord Aragorn was betrothed to another woman, long ago. you know this." He pause. "My lady, these words are solely for your protection, disregard how I may feel for you. But if you continue to love Aragorn this way, it will only serve to wound your heart. Aragorn may love you, I know not, but he loves another deeper, and he will cleave to her. I would hate to see your heart broken."

"It is a bit late for that, Grima," Eowyn replied. "Your treachery broke my heart long ago." She wrapped Grima's black cloak tighter around her, still shivering.

"Then mayhap my repentance may heal your heart." Grima leaned towards her to kiss her again. She turned away.

"I believe I told you, Grima Galmod's son, that you must earn my love. You have long to go before your rest." Eowyn's voice was stone. After a moment, Grima turned her face to him.

"Let us take tonight's rest together," he said. "After all, you must stay warm, my lady, or you shall surely perish. Since you refuse to enter the caves again, this is the only other option." Standing up, he drew from his horse's saddle bags and blanket, and a leather flask. He spread the blanket on a flat patch of ground, and handed Eowyn the flask. She eyed it warily. "Drink, Eowyn," he commanded. "You need to keep up your strength. The drink was warm, and it cleared her mind. Grima bade her lay upon the blanket. He lay next to her, drawing his cloak up over both of them.

"I trust, Lord Grima, that you will not lay a finger on me during the night. If you do, I will personally see you beheaded."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Grima said. Eowyn seriously doubted this, certain that he had dreamt of it for years. He interrupted her thoughts. "However, for both our safety, you should sleep close to me, or we shall both freeze."

"I am not a fool, Grima." Eowyn scooted closer to him, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her completely against him. She kept her arms between them, as a precaution, but Grima gave no sign of any desire he felt for her. Wrapped in his warm embrace, Eowyn slowly fell asleep to the lullaby of battle sounds that drifted up from the keep below.

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The silence woke them both quite suddenly the next morning. The sounds of battle had ceased, and the world was uncannily still. Eowyn's eyes flickered open to see Grima's ice blue eyes gazing at her in the dim light. Apparently he had pulled the cloak-hood over their heads in the night, and his nose was millimeters from hers. His eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between hers, as they had done at the scene of Theodred's death. She remembered the pleasure she had found in his touch that day, and wondered if she could find it again. She shifted slightly, pulling her hand from beneath her. She touched the side of his face, thenreached up and pulled the cloak-hood off their heads. The sunlight was cold and bright. Shouts of "Eowyn!" could be dimly heard from the Keep. She sat up sharply. Grima opened his mouth to say something, but Eowyn had jumped back down the hole and sprinted off down the pass before his silver words could sway her.

Grima gathered his things, mounted his horse, and set off at a trot. Pausing at the peak of the mountain, he looked back to see Eowyn and Aragorn embracing on the broken battlements of the Deep. Growling and muttering threats, he turned his course to Edoras.

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	3. Part 3

A/N: SperryDee, this one's for you, because I finally felt like writing again when I got an email that said, "SperryDee has added your story to his/her Story Alert list." Anyway, without further boring ado, part three. -bows- -swooshes cloak and exits-

**The Power of Love**

**Part Three**

Eowyn arrived at Edoras with the women and children in the early afternoon, some three days later. Theoden, Eomer, Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and others had taken a roundabout route, past Isengard. As the women approached Edoras, they saw Theoden and company riding towards them, looking distressed. Eomer pointed towards the city. Eowyn looked and saw a column of black smoke rising from the Golden Hall. One by one, the others looked, and stopped walking in surprise. Theoden rode up with explicit instructions that no one was to enter the city until it had been fully searched, then spurred his horse onward, riding cautiously up the hill. Eowyn found an empty horse, leapt astride it, and rode bareback round the back way at a full gallop, determined to beat her uncle to the chase, to the kill, and earn his permission to fight in battles to come. Unknown to her, Aragorn followed closely behind.

She entered the Hall slowly. It appeared that all of the rooms had been burned, except the main Hall, which was filled with smoke. Eowyn drew her sword. Dimly, she could make out the silhouette of someone standing near the throne. As she drew nearer, she raised her sword to smite off the head of the intruder, but before her stroke fell, he had seized her wrist. The smoke cleared around them, and Eowyn's sword clattered to the floor. Grima Wormtongue stood before her. His expression was unfathomable, but his eyes betrayed him.

"Get away from me, you treacherous snake!" Eowyn hissed. Grima raised his eyebrows.

"It is your eyes I will trust, my lady, not your words." He glanced sharply at her mouth. "Your eyes alone speak the truth." His cold hand left her wrist, traveled swiftly up her arm, and rested lightly on the back of her neck, sending chills down her spine. She put up her hand to stop him, but as she touched his chest, he pulled her against him and kissed her fiercely.

Suddenly he was wrenched from her and thrown to the floor. Aragorn stood above him, his eyes glittering with rage, his sword pressed to Grima's throat.

"I trust you remember, Worm, that your punishment for returning to Edoras is death?" Aragorn said coldly. Grima clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. Aragorn raised his sword. Eowyn dashed across the room and threw her body between theirs. Aragorn's features softened considerably. "Eowyn," he said, slightly breathless. "His punishment is no more than he deserves."

"Let him go, my lord. Too much blood has been spilt on his account." Eowyn was well aware of the lack of space between her body and Aragorn's, and it was beginning to cloud up her mind. "Let him go," she whispered, and in a single, reckless move, pressed her lips to the lips of the Man before her. She heard Grima scamper away as Aragorn's heart pounded against hers.

"Ahem," someone said from across the room. Eowyn leapt backward, away from Aragorn, as Theoden King came striding through the clearing smoke, a smile on his face. Eowyn blushed as he gave her a knowing look. "Now. Did either of you see the intruder?" Aragorn and Eowyn looked at each other for a moment, then Aragorn spoke.

"No, sire. There was no one here."

"Good," Theoden replied. "None of the buildings have been harmed it seems. Merely smoke. Someone, no doubt, sent from Saruman to send us a warning. However, no harm done, and the smoke is already clearing. Eomer!"

"Yes, my lord?" Eomer appeared behind the king.

"See that a feast is prepared. We have much to celebrate." Eomer smiled and turned away in search of the servants. Theoden nodded and went out, his clock billowing behind him. Aragorn looked at Eowyn. She turned to face him, her eyes shining. A sad smile crossed his face. He touched her cheek lightly and turned away.

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Later that night, during the feast, Eowyn stood alone in front of Meduseld, savoring the feel of the cool night air on her fevered skin. She had sat near Aragorn at supper, had served him the customary chalice of wine as a celebration, and was unable to concentrate on eating, so she excused herself and came outside. She heard a sound, and turned. Grima was standing near the corner of the building, watching her. The breeze did nothing to cool her as Grima stepped forward slowly. Eowyn seemed rooted to the spot. Grima was nearly to her. She gazed at him, her emerald eyes an unusually dark green. He circled her, enjoying the feel of her eyes on him as he gently trailed his hand around her waist.

"My princess," he breathed. Her lips parted slightly. "I trust that my warning today was enough to tell you what will happen if this relationship between you and Aragorn progresses any further. You cannot deny that you now feel the same for me as I do for you. I can see your..._longing_ for me written clearly in your eyes. You can no longer deny me." He wrapped his arms round her waist and pulled her sharply against him. He moaned slightly.

"Mayhap I cannot deny thee, but I will, for as long as I can," Eowyn replied, turning out of Grima's embrace.

"My lady--" the hurt was evident in Grima's voice.

"I told you once, and again, you must earn my love. Your 'reminder' has set you back, even further."

"Be that as it may, you _will_ be mine, Eowyn. You know this, even as you run to your precious Aragorn, you know you will be mine." Eowyn shuddered. Grima pulled from his pocket a long, thin, silver chain. A round black onyx pendant dangled from it, bearing the symbol of a G-rune and a snake in silver, the same that were tattooed to Grima's wrist. He fastened it round her neck. Eowyn tried to undo the clasp, but found that there was no clasp. Moreover, when she tried to lift it over her head, the chain tightened until she was nearly strangled. Grima chuckled and took the chain from her fingers.

"That would be most unwise, my lady." Eowyn did not reply, and in the silence, footsteps could be heard, drawing quickly near. Grima vanished in a flurry of robes. Eowyn tucked the pendant into her dress just as Aragorn came out into the night.

"Hello, my lord," she said, curtsying slightly. He took her hand and kissed it gently. "You should get back to the celebration, my lord. It is because of you that we were victorious." Aragorn complied. Together they re-entered the Hall and joined in the celebration.

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Over the next few days, events began to snowball. After the battle, things were somewhat mellow, and then they began to happen faster and faster. One of the hobbits, Meriadoc Brandybuck, had become fast friends with the Lady Eowyn. The morning after the celebration, Merry's companion, Peregrin Took, departed with Gandalf for the realm of Gondor. Open war had come against all the free peoples of Middle Earth, and they were in desperate need of an ally.

Four days later, the beacons of Gondor had been lit, and Theoden prepared his men again for battle. Every man and rider in the country of Rohan were riding for Dunharrow. Eowyn went with them. The armour of the sheildlady of Rohan was secretly brought to Dunharrow as well.

After waiting at Dunharrow for two days, Eowyn learned that the following morning, the men would ride for Minas Tirith, and war. She ran through the camp, trying to find Aragorn. She saw him emerge from the King's tent with a strange figure. He was tall, with long dark hair, and no sign of age upon his face. Aragorn had a new sword in one hand, and the other was closed around the Evenstar pendant at his breast. Eowyn's heart froze. This strange man was an Elf, fair above all other creatures. Aragorn's betrothed, who gave him the pendant, was an Elf. This unexpected turn of events struck something in Eowyn. It was over. Aragorn's beloved had not left for the Undying Lands, and Aragorn was going to have the Elven maid for his wife. Tears welled in Eowyn's eyes as she ran after Aragorn.

"You cannot leave on the eve of battle!" she cried, fear ringing its cold hammer upon her heart. Aragorn turned to her.

"Why have you come?" he asked quietly, not pausing in gathering his things to leave.

"Do you not know?" she asked tremulously.

"It is but a shadow and a thought that you love. I cannot give you what you seek." He turned and began to walk away. After a moment, he paused and turned back to her, touching the side of her face lightly. "There is one who can. You know that this is true. If you cannot love him in return, be kind to him. A woman's words can be more piercing than any dagger ever forged." He turned away a final time and disappeared into the shadows. Eowyn stood, frozen, watching Aragorn's dim form as he walked slowly away. Tears filled her eyes, but did not spill over. She felt the cold fear in her heart grow numb, and her eyes darkened.

"I did warn you, my princess." The voice came slowly out of the icy darkness. Eowyn's stomach clenched. She should have known that he would come, that he would be here. "Did I not?" Eowyn stiffened. Grima chuckled. "You remember well that night." His voice drew nearer. "You said you loved me, Eowyn. Do you still?" His voice was full of hope.

Eowyn struggled within herself. She could feel Grima's presence close behind her. _No! You do not love him. His treachery is far to great for your love._ She opened her mouth. In a barely audible voice, she said, "Yes." She felt, rather than heard, Grima take a sharp breath.

His cold touch sent chills down her spine as he reached out and took in his fingers the silver chain that hung round her neck. After a moment he let it fall. The chain scorched her skin where he had touched it.

"I have always loved you, Eowyn. Do you remember when I first told you?" Grima put his hands on Eowyn's shoulders. His touch was as a flame of fire, or boiling water: cold at first, and then heat beyond imagining.

"Yes." Eowyn had been nineteen years old. It was late at night, and he had come to her. They had talked, and he had told her that he loved her. "I was overjoyed. Your love was a constant source of light to me as the days grew dark. That darkness was brought on by you, Grima. I knew of your treachery, and I kept myself from you out of duty to the people of this country."

"How did you know?" Grima marveled that even though Eowyn knew of his treachery, she chose not to tell anyone. Surely this was a sign of her love for him. He thought and wondered this, but said nothing. Eowyn spoke.

"I found a letter. It was from Saruman. I read it." Eowyn paused, remembering.

_Grima,_

_You are to administer this poison to Theoden the king three times daily. It is a slow acting poison, and no one will suspect you. Further instructions are to come. If you are obedient, the Lady Eowyn will be yours, as you desire._

"I was frightened, but I said nothing."

"Why? If you spurned me out of duty for your country, why not betray me to your brother? You had irrefutable proof. Why not use it?"

Eowyn was quiet for a moment. She turned and faced Grima. "I loved you, Grima. I would--" she dropped her voice to a whisper. "I would see my country fall under your hands if it meant you would live. I knew that if Rohan fell, you would still live, and I would rather you live than Rohan thrive without you. I have always loved you, Grima, son of Galmod. I would never betray my country, but I could never betray you either." Eowyn pressed her lips to Grima's. He wrapped his arms around her waist. Eowyn felt the numbness of Aragorn's rejection fading as Grima's mouth and body moved against her own. The chain round her neck snapped sharply and fell to the ground between their feet, the silver chain broken. Eowyn and Grima looked at it for a moment. Grima stooped and picked it up. A new light came into his pale blue eyes.

"Saruman's hold over me has broken," he said quietly, fingering the broken chain. Eowyn looked at him questioningly. "This necklace was given me by Saruman. It was crafted by the Wizard himself, with a secret magic that would bind you irreversibly to me. But the power of love has broken Saruman's magic." Eowyn took the chain from Grima, knotting it in her fingers and looping it back over her neck.

"I can no longer deny thee, lord. Nor do I choose to do so. It is as you said, one week ago, now. I will be yours." Eowyn looked Grima in the eye, her face resolute. His pale hands reached out and touched her face, milky in the moonlight. He brought her to him. His kiss began simply, but quickly all the desire he had long harboured for her came to him. He broke the passionate embrace.

"Eowyn, you ride tomorrow to war. It is very likely you shall not return. Let me stay tonight with you..." Grima whispered earnestly. Eowyn regarded him for a moment. All fear, all doubt was gone. She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. She kissed him again, and led him through the silent camp. Her tent stood alone, a single lamp burning inside. She lifted the flap and entered. As she blew out the candle, Grima stood uncertainly by the entrance.

In the moonlight that filtered through the tent fabric, Eowyn could barely make out Grima's silhouette. She took his hands and led him to stand by her near the bed of furs in the rear of the tent. Hands shaking, she reached for him and unclasped his long black cloak. She looked at him, asking permission with her eyes. He nodded once, never removing his eyes from her face. Her shaking fingers undid the buttons on his dark shirts, and they slid quietly to the floor in a pile. His dark hair tumbled onto his shoulders, contrasting sharply with his pale skin. Eowyn ran her hands over his shoulders, down his arms, and up his chest. Grima drew in a shuddering breath and clutched her to him, pulling her hips against his. She gasped sharply.

"I have waited so long for this, Eowyn," he growled into her neck. His hands found the laces of her dress, but he shook, and his hands fumbled. Eowyn smiled and took pity on him. She stepped away, quickly undoing the laces of her dress and letting it fall to the floor. She covered her body with her long golden hair, and looked at Grima. He was turned away from her, removing the remainder of his own clothes. She climbed into the bed and covered herself with the furs. She looked up. Grima was standing before her, his thin body glowing pale in the moonlight. Eowyn reached up and pulled him down to her.

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The next morning, Eowyn awoke early and roused Grima.

"You need to get away from here. If the men find you, you will be killed." She dressed quickly with Grima, and then led him through the camp. "Good bye," she said quietly, hugging him. "If I return, I will find you. I promise." She kissed him quickly, then turned and ran back to her tent.

She waited in the tent until Theoden and Eomer came to bid her farewell. Then she quickly put on the armour of the sheildlady of Rohan and ran out to join the cavalry. As the Rohirrim rode away, Eowyn saw the hobbit Merry, running to and fro between the Riders. She snatched him up as she rode past, and lifted him into her horse.

"Ride with me," she whispered.

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The next morning, as the sun was rising, Eowyn waited on her horse as Theoden delivered his final battle speech to his men. At the conclusion, the men trust forth their swords with a great cry. The adrenaline rush was incredible. Eowyn yelled as loud as she could, fire burning in her blood, in her eyes. She heard little Merry yell in front of her, and smiled.Theoden put his spear forward and rode towards the army of Mordor. Eowyn spurred her horse forward. Her pounding heart matched the rhythm of the horses thundering hooves across the plain. In a rush of sound and color, the two armies met.

Hours later, Eowyn was fighting still. Merry had fallen off her horse long ago, but she could still see him laying beside a huge dead beast. Suddenly and earsplitting shriek rent the air. The Nine wheeled overhead on winged beasts. Eowyn ducked as the greatest one flew over. It landed before Theoden King. Eowyn felt cold, bitter fear enter her heart for the first time since the battle began. She raced toward the pair. Her horse was shot from under her. As the mare fell, Eowyn jumped and hit the ground running. When she reached her uncle, he lay stricken on the ground. She turned around to the Witch King. His beast swung its head around to consume her. She cut off the head of the beast with three strokes of her sword and turned to the Wraith.

He walked toward her, swinging his mace. Eowyn ducked. Several more times he swung, and struck Eowyn's shield. It shattered, and she felt the bone in her arm break. She fell back against her uncle's horse. The Wraith cackled cruelly.

"No man can kill me." He raised his sword. Eowyn lifted her good arm and threw off her helmet. Her golden hair blew in the wind.

"I am no man." She lifted her sword. At the same moment, Merry the hobbit crawled over and stabbed the Witch-King in the back of his knee. Eowyn thrust her sword into his helm. He issued a terrible shrieking noise as his armour crumpled into dust. Eowyn watched the wind carry it away, then everything went black.


	4. Part 4

**THE POWER OF LOVE**

**A/N:** I'm kind of sorry this took so long. I've started college, and am rather busy. Please review, if you're even still reading this…. I wouldn't be…

**Part Four**

When Eowyn opened her eyes, she saw an unfamiliar vaulted ceiling above her. She tried to sit up, but it was too painful. Fearing that the Enemy had captured her, she didn't say a word. Soon, she heard footsteps near, and Aragorn appeared above her. She smiled.

"My lord, how long—" she began, but Aragorn put a finger to his lips.

"Shhh." He smiled. "Your battle with the Witch King greatly taxed you, Éowyn. Rest now. The war is over. We have the victory." He bent and kissed her forehead lightly. Eowyn waited for the rush of emotion that usually accompanied Aragorn's presence, but it did not come. All that came was a rush of memories. Memories of the last man who had placed his lips on her forehead, a few days before. She tried to sit up again. Despite the pain, she straightened and looked around for Theoden King. In vain she searched the beds in the hall. He was not among the wounded. Then perhaps he was well! Eowyn called Aragorn.

"Where is my uncle?" she asked simply. A shadow fell across Aragorn's face.

"He is gone, my lady. The Witch King of Agmar slew him. I am truly sorry, Éowyn." He reached out and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. Eowyn sobbed and lay back down. She mourned her uncle's death and cried herself to sleep.

A few months later, after the crowning of Aragorn as King Elessar, and his wedding to Arwen of Rivendell on Midsummer's Day, Theoden's funeral was held in the Golden Hall, on August 10th. Eomer was now King of Rohan. He stood at the head of the Hall. To his right stood Lady Eowyn, and to his left stood King Elessar and Queen Arwen. Gandalf stood in the center of the Hall, speaking words of praise to Theoden King, and words of comfort to those who had come to mourn his passing. The Hobbits Merry and Pippin were there, as well as their companions Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee.

After the funeral, Eowyn went quietly to her room. She changed into a simple traveling dress. She took a last look around her room, and then went to the stables. Her horse had been lost in the battle, so she took King Theoden's horse and rode to the gates of Edoras. Pausing there, she pulled out the pin that held her hair in an elegant twist. As her hair tumbled down her back, she pulled Grima's necklace out of the neckline of her dress and let it rest on her bosom, for all the world to see that she belonged to Grima Wormtongue.

As she rode, to where, she didn't know, rainclouds began to gather in the West. A few hours later, somewhere near dawn, the air rumbled with thunder, lightning forked across the sky, and rain fell in torrents. Eowyn looked up and found that she was near Isengard. As she looked at the tower Orthanc, between flashes of lightning, she saw a light burning in one of the high windows. As she approached the gate, she found that the entire citadel had been filled with water and was now a great pool. Strange creatures were moving about in the water, and round the borders of the gate. They looked like trees, but moved after the manner of humans.

As Eowyn watched, she remembered an old rhyme she had learned when she was a child. The words were lost to her, but she remembered that the rhyme mentioned tree-men, forest shepherds. She figured she had nothing to fear of these creatures, for they looked very peaceful, but she cautiously rode forward nonetheless. When she reached the gate, one of the tree-men spotted her and came striding over. She spurred her horse up the staircase and stopped on the top of the city wall. The tree-man bent, as well as tree-men can, and spoke to her.

"Hoom, hm, and who might you be, young woman?" he asked in a very low, gravelly voice.

"I am Eowyn, Shield Maiden of Rohan. Might I ask who you are?"

"Hm, Treebeard is my name. I am the new, hmmm, lord of Isengard."

Eowyn dismounted and bowed to Treebeard. "A friend of mine once abode here, and it appears that he may still. I wonder if you might admit me."

"Hmm, hoom, I might. Then, hm, maybe I won't. The man who lives here now, hm, is a traitor to Saruman. Hoom. But, hm, perhaps you do not seek the Wizard?"

"Who is the traitor who lives here?" Eowyn asked.

"Hmm, young Gandalf named him Wormtongue, I believe," Treebeard replied slowly.

"He is the one I seek." Eowyn dismounted and sent the horse back down the stairs. He meandered away, nibbling on the grass. Treebeard picked up Eowyn in his long arms and waded through the pool to the tower of Orthanc. He set her down on the steps of the tower. There was a boat tied nearby. Eowyn raised the large black knocker and let it fall. A resounding boom echoed through the tower. She waited several minutes in silence. The only sound was the movement of the other tree-men around the tower and the rain falling into the water. After a moment, the heavy door opened.

Grima stood before her, outlined by the dark corridors behind him. His eyes widened when he saw her standing there, clad in a simple brown traveling dress, her gold hair wet and clinging to her body.

"Eowyn…!" he whispered. He eyed Treebeard, and then beckoned Eowyn in. The door closed with a thud. Grima looked at Eowyn. He kissed her, and then led her up the stairs. They climbed for a very long time in darkness before they came to a corridor lined with six doors, their polished wood gleaming in the torchlight. Grima led Eowyn to the third door. There was a large black bathing tub in the middle, large enough for a very tall man to lay comfortably inside it. Grima turned the tap, and clear hot water gushed into the smooth marble tub.

"Get in," he commanded. "You'll catch your death riding in this weather." Eowyn took of her dress and stepped into the bath. The water soothed her cold, wet skin. She leaned comfortably on the back of the tub, her hair surrounding her body like a cloud. Grima sat on the side of the tub and looked at her.

"What happened?" he asked. Eowyn shifted her position.

"I rode to war with the Hobbit Merry. Neither of us were supposed to be there, but we couldn't bear to stay away. Theoden King was slain by the Witch King of Agmar, whom I defeated. Sauron is gone. Aragorn is King Elessar of Gondor and the realm of Arnor. My brother Eomer is now king of Rohan." Grima scoffed. Eowyn smiled. "Who would you see as king?"

"I would see you, my lady, as Queen of Rohan."

"And who would be my King?" Eowyn asked with a smile. Grima looked away, a rare flush coloring his pale face. Eowyn slid to the front of the bath tub and laid her hand on Grima's thigh. He turned to face her.

"If you would, I wish to be your king," he said quietly.

"I would," Eowyn said, riding to her knees and kissing him gently.

The next morning, Grima took Eowyn up to the top of the tower Orthanc, to the very place where Gandalf the Grey had been held captive. For half a mile in all directions stretched a pool of water. Grima explained to her how the tree-men, Ents, they were called, learned of the treachery of Saruman, and wreaked their vengance upon him. When he had finished the tale, he turned to her.

"Eowyn, why did you come?" he asked.

"When Theoden died, and with you gone, I knew there was nothing for me in Edoras. I took Theoden's horse and left the city. I rode for hours in the rain. When I saw a light in the tower, I knew you were here." Grima was silent for several minutes. He stood behind Eowyn, his arms around her waist. He kissed her neck lightly.

"I've always expected you would be mine," he said slowly. "Never did I believe that you would be mine willingly. I feel—" Grima's breath caught in his throat and his grip loosened on Eowyn's waist. "I feel as though I—I do not deserve your love, for all the wrongs I have committed against you and your family, and your people. I am truly sorry, my lady." He faced Eowyn. His eyes searched hers.

Eowyn said, "I forgive you, my lord." She bowed low, resting one knee on the ground. "I willingly give myself to be your wife." Grima took her hands and raised her to her feet.

"You shall be my wife and queen of Isengard." He kissed her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. She backed up until she felt one of the tower spires under her back. Thinking that she could be secure, she leaned back on the spire, deepening the kiss. An earsplitting crack filled the air, and a piece of the black marble began to fall. Eowyn fell with it, down into the water below. Grima looked over the edge, too horrified at himself to even breathe. Already Eowyn's body was sinking into the pool, lost from sight.

"Treebeard!" Grima yelled. Tears coursed down his face. "Treebeard, save her!" He watched as Treebeard strode to the base of the tower and scooped Eowyn up in his long arms. She was as limp as a ragdoll in his grasp. Grima raced down the stairs of Orthanc and burst through the front doors. Treebeard laid Eowyn at his feet. He knelt and He bent and placed his ear to her mouth her heart. Her breath barely came, and there was but a faint heartbeat. Frantically, Grima searched his memory for something that could help her. As he looked at her pale face, she opened her eyes.

"Grima—" she whispered faintly, then she closed her eyes again. Grima picked her up gingerly. He put her in his small boat and rowed quickly to the stabes. His black stallion stood, saddled in his stall. Grima gently lifted Eowyn onto the horse and jumped up behind her. Half blinded by tears, he rode across the wall, down the stairs, and out onto the Road.

He arrived at the Hall Meduseld near midnight. He laid Eowyn on the steps and knocked loudly on the door. When a few minutes passed, and no one came, Grima threw himself against the doors with a yell. As the cry echoed away, he heard footsteps, and the great doors swung open. King Eomer came striding out. Grima stood over Eowyn as Eomer drew his sword, then stepped aside. Eomer's eyes widened as he beheld his sister's still form lying on the steps. He dropped his sword and knelt at her side, taking her cold hand in his.

"Eowyn," he whispered. She made no sign that she had heard his voice. Grima watched as Eomer lifted her gently in his arms and carried her inside. A glint of metal caught his eye. As the doors closed, Grima bent and lifted Eowyn's necklace from the stone steps. He clenched his fist around the chain and turned away. He mounted his horse and rode very slowly back to Isengard.

When he got there, he shut and locked all the doors and windows of Orthanc but one. He took a small supply of food and locked himself in his quarters. For days he sat at the window, staring out at nothing, consumed by guilt, not eating, nor sleeping.


	5. Part 5

**THE POWER OF LOVE**

**A/N:** Yeah, yeah, I know, it's been a while. But I'm a Creative Writing major now, and a Vocal Performance minor, what can I say? College takes up a lot of time. Here's bit five. Enjoy.

**Part Five**

Eowyn shifted in her sleep. She blinked slowly. The room she was in looked all too familiar. As her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, she saw a familiar figure sleeping in a chair next to her bed. She smiled.

"Eomer," she whispered. He awoke immediately and turned to her. He kissed her forehead.

"How do you feel?" he asked. Eowyn shrugged.

"What happened?" she wondered. Eomer told her that he had found her on the steps of Meduseld, guarded by Grima Wormtongue. She had broken two ribs. Eomer told her this, but he knew no more. Eowyn chose not to tell him. She put a hand to her throat, and realized with sadness that Grima's necklace was gone.

For three days Eowyn rested in her bed. Her meals were brought to her, but she ate little. She slept, and her dreams were of Grima.

After those three days, Eowyn was allowed to leave her quarters and walk about the Golden Hall. She spent most of her time outside in the sun, watching the green grass turn gold, and the leaves fall as autumn settled over Middle Earth.

All during the winter, and until spring, Eowyn remained at Edoras, and Grima in his tower room at Orthanc, both completely and utterly alone, yet inseparably connected.

*****

The next summer, Eowyn left Rohan. She traveled with an escort to the realm of Gondor, to the White City of Minas Tirith. She arrived there the day before Midsummer's Day. When news reached the citadel that the Shield Lady of Rohan, for this she still was, until Eomer begat a daughter, had come, the King Elessar himself came to the Gates to greet her. When he saw her, he ran to her, lifted her from her horse, and kissed her forehead.

"Eowyn," he said, bowing.

"My lord Aragorn," she replied, curtsying politely. "Or shall I call you King Elessar now?" she asked with a smile.

"Few now address me as Aragorn, nor as Strider…" He smiled, thinking of the Halflings. "However, my lady, you are among the blessed, and may address me as you wish." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and they walked away in to the City, deep in conversation.

When they arrived at the last level of the City, they found Queen Arwen waiting for them at the doors of the palace of the King.

"Welcome, Eowyn of Rohan, she said in a rich low voice. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back, framing her fair face.

"Lady Arwen," Eowyn whispered, kneeling before her. "Thou art most fair above al that I have seen in Middle Earth." Arwen smiled kindly on her, and bade Eowyn rise.

"Come. Noontide is nigh. You shall dine with the king." She led Eowyn to a private set of guest rooms. "If you will pardon me, I have laid out a gown for you. Lunch will be served at noon." Arwen exited regally.

Eowyn washed her face, which was grimy from the journey, and brushed out her long golden hair, then put on the dress from Arwen. It was a beautiful rich green, with a silver braid round the waist. There was a silver circlet to put in her hair as well. Once Eowyn had dressed, she left her room and sought the dining hall. She needn't go far, for King Elessar soon found her and led her to his table. She was seated at his left hand. They talked mostly of the peace of the world, and Aragorn's voyages with King Eomer into Rhun to purge the land of all evil.

After the meal, Elessar bade Arwen leave, and he and Eowyn walked about the courtyard. The White Tree was in bloom. They sat near it in silence for a while. The King sensed that there was something Eowyn wished to tell him. But she was not yet ready, and he did not press her. After a time, she opened her mouth.

"Do you remember, my lord, the night you took the Paths of the Dead?" she said quietly.

"Yes," Aragorn said sadly.

"You told me then to consider Grima Wormtongue. I did. He stayed with me that night. After Theoden's funeral, I went to him. I… I fell from the Orthanc tower. He took me back to Edoras, and Eomer would not let me leave. I feel for him, Aragorn. Before I fell, he said to me that he did not deserve my love, for all the wrongs he had committed against me. I fear he may have killed himself out of the guilt. I would go to him, but for Eomer. He strictly forbids me to do anything without his consent." A bitter resentment came into Eowyn's voice. Aragorn was silent for a moment before speaking.

"You should send an epistle to him. If only to make you happy, I would personally see it done. I have seen the change that this War has wrought upon you, and I have seen the change that came when you accepted Grima's love. And now I see a new change, for you fear that Grima has deserted you, as so many have done throughout your life. I wish to see you happy again. Write to Grima, and ask him to come to Gondor. This is all the help I can offer at this time. Although I do not approve of Grima, if you love him, I wish you the best of fortune." Eowyn considered this for some time, and then nodded.

"I have one more question, my lord," she said. "How long may I stay in Gondor?"

"For as long as you wish, my lady. The room you are staying in is yours, for as long as you would keep it." Aragorn smiled and rose, taking Eowyn's hands and lifting her to her feet. "I must take my leave of you now. Farewell." He dropped her hands and turned and walked away. Eowyn watched him, and wondered briefly how different her life would have been if Aragorn had chosen her. She smiled, but her hands went to her neck where Grima's necklace used to hang. Her smile faded, and she turned and walked to her quarters.

There was a desk there, carved out of a rich, dark wood. Already set on it were pieces of plain white paper and a white feather quill. She sat down. The chair creaked slightly. She dipped the quill in the ink and held it above the paper. A drop of ink fell onto the paper with a tiny splash as she hesitated. After a moment, she lowered the quill and began to write.

_Grima,_

_I write from the city of Minas Tirith, in the realm of Gondor. Please know that I hold you at no fault for what happened to me at Orthanc. I would ask that you come to the city to live with me here. Even if you will not come, I need to know that you are yet alive. I could not bear it if you died. Please consider my request._

_With love,_

_Eowyn_

Eowyn folded u the letter and poured a bit of black sealing wax over the flap. She picked up the seal and pressed it to the wax. It was the symbol of the White Tree of Gondor, and when she lifted the seal, the Tree was printed in silver into the wax. She turned the letter over and wrote on the front, "Grima Wormtongue, Orthanc Tower, Isengard." She carried the letter to the gates of the palace. As the guards opened them for her, she asked one of them where she might find a courier. He escorted her to the first level of the city, to a small stone house where several horses were tied. After thanking the guard, Eowyn knocked boldly on the door. It creaked open, and a tall fair youth stood before her.

"May I help you?" he asked, stepping forward.

"Yes," Eowyn replied. "I wish to send this letter." She held it out to him, along with several silver coins. He bowed as he took them. He mounted one of the horses and rode off to the gates of the newly rebuilt Pelennor wall. Evening was falling and Eowyn was wearied from her journey. She walked back to the palace. When she got there, it was nearly dark, and torches were burning along the corridors. Eowyn found her way to her chambers and lay down on the bed. Within moments she was sound asleep.

When she awoke, the city was still, and the light from the nearly full moon was glimmering on the white stone floor. She was incredibly hungry, so she left her room in search of the kitchens. All of the torches had been extinguished, but the halls and courtyard were filled with moonlight. Eowyn looked out at the Tree, glowing silver against a black velvet sky. A man stood before it, his back towards her, gazing up at its mighty boughs. Eowyn walked towards him, her footsteps echoing quietly against the stone. The man turned. Eowyn looked at him for a moment. There was a familiar light in his eyes, similar to the one that lighted Aragorn's face, although not as powerful.

"Good evening," she said, inclining her head towards him. He bowed slightly.

"Faramir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, at your service, my lady."

"Well met, Faramir. I am Eowyn. Eomer, King of Rohan, is my brother."

Faramir smiled. "A good man."

"Thank you," Eowyn said. "I wonder if you might direct me to the kitchens, as I appear to have slept thought dinner."

Faramir chuckled. "Yes, so it would seem. I shall accompany you, as I am quite hungry myself." He offered Eowyn his arm and led her to the kitchens. He opened a bottle of wine and brought out some bread and cheese. They ate and talked long into the night. The moon was setting as Faramir bade Eowyn good night and returned to his own quarters.

The next morning was Midsummer's Day. After Eowyn had washed and dressed, she wandered out into the courtyard. Faramir was standing on the end of the tower, looking out across the river Anduin to the fair green country of Ithilien. Eowyn walked up to him.

"Hello, Faramir," she said. "What is it you are gazing upon yonder?"

Faramir turned with a smile. "Hello, lady. I look towards Ithilien. Long have I defended that land against the Shadow. Now I am Lord there, under King Elessar. On the morrow I shall return thither." There was a note of sadness in his voice. Eowyn looked at him questioningly. "I was brought up in this city," he explained. "My brother Boromir and I played long together in the fields of Pelennor, imagining to be great soldiers in battle. He came to his end as a great warrior in battle, and I miss him greatly. It pains me to be in this city, where his memory still lingers, but the pain is greater without these walls…" He trailed off with a sigh. Eowyn placed her hand on his shoulder.

"I, too, lost those I loved in the Great War: My uncle, Theoden King, and his son Theodred. Though it causes me great pain that they cannot share in our joy and peace, I know that they would rather have us live in peace than themselves. They willingly gave their lives for us to live in peace, and escape from the Shadow."

"Yes," Faramir agreed. "And in peace we shall live. Tonight is the celebration of Gondor's renewal, and celebration of the wedding of King Elessar and Queen Arwen, a celebration of Gondor's restoration to her former glory. Will you come?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes," Eowyn replied, smiling. "Now, tell me of the land of Ithilien. I have been told that the elves dwelt there once, in the old days."

"Yes, they did. Galadriel and Celeborn settled that land, and it is one of the few places left now in Middle Earth that still retains the magic of the Elves. Long has the air been fresh, and fragrant with the scents of many flowers. During the war, and the Dark times before the war began, the land around Ithilien perished, but not that land. It was kept alive by the power of Galadriel. It did grow old, and there is sadness now about it, a sadness of forgotten times, but it is still fair and beautiful. Now, Eowyn, I must leave you. I have a small part in the celebration tonight, and I must prepare. Farewell." Faramir bowed and departed.


End file.
